Johanna, Johanna, Johanna
by totalphangirl
Summary: Three different men view Johanna in three different ways; one man spies her every day through a hole in her wall. The second peers bashfully at her window, thinking only of modest romance. The third knows his little lamb is lost forever. Rated T for Judge Turpin's disgusting view on Johanna... CRINGEY...


Johanna, Johanna. You do not know how my eyes observe you each day. You are unknowing as to how I obsess over you… I want you in the most sinful way a man wants his child… I want to do things to you, things that will be forgotten in a rush of hot, red, one-sided passion. I want to feel you quiver beneath me… so young, fresh, pure… My eyes should be attracted to your childish face. They should admire your adorable features rather than the womanly curves you have produced in your few years of adolescence. I notice only the swell of your breasts, hiding from beneath your corset. I am drawn towards your cleavage, perfectly compressed into the tight-fitting curves of your dress. I admire the elegance and grace in which you walk, the way your skirts drift around your legs, the sun rupturing the flimsy material. I want to corrupt your innocence, the innocence you mock me with every day. Your lips part, soft, full and childish. You know nothing else, my dear. I want to pull those clothes from you. I want to fill those lips with… No! Deliver me God! Deliver me from this! I cannot keep you one more day… when I marry you, when the night of our marriage comes, _you _will deliver me. You will bring the release my own hands cannot supply. I'll wed you on the morrow.

Each day, as I walk bashfully to your window, you notice me. You are the greatest wonder I have ever seen! Your skin is pale and ivory, your nose is a soft subtle sweep, the same evenly distributed creaminess blessing it. Your lips are beautiful and soft, the perfect sweet pink, and when they curve into a smile the childish roundness of your cheeks are triggered and those adorable dimples appear. Your almond-shaped eyes blink blissfully at me, a delicious bright blue, dulled only by the sadness you suffer when I am forced to leave you alone. They are framed with pale lashes, lost in the whiteness of your face. The lustrous yellow hair falls freely over your shoulders, wonderfully wavy and silky to the touch. Light shines from each curl, giving an individual gloss of couler to every strand. In my mind I sit behind you and embrace you. I bury my face into your sweet-smelling hair and wrap my arms around you, whispering things to you and making you happy. One day I will take you away. We will live together happily. We will sail the world and see its wonders.

Who are you Johanna? You are the one thing left in my life. The one thing that drags guilt onto my shoulders whenever I end a man's life. In my mind you are still a child. Well you _are; _you are fifteen years old, fresh and pure in innocence. If the judge were to steal that innocence then I would never be able to forgive myself. All I know is that you are a beautiful young woman. I imagine you like your mother, only with a more youthful quality. I imagine you with a button nose and a dainty face. I imagine you pale, with yellow hair. Perhaps you have my sloping hollow cheeks. Perhaps you share the curls of my hair… have your round eyes stayed intact through childhood? When I look down at you will my heart still melt in a fatherly tenderness and adoration? Is your contagious smile still as winsome as it was? I know I cannot pick you up and cradle you like I used to. When I served my time in Australia my hands ached for you and for the happiness that radiated from you. I wanted to hear your little murmurs and giggles. I wanted to thread my fingers through your silky tufts of golden hair. I remembered everything about you, from the way you rested on my hip to the way you lay in your crib at night. I treasured you and I still do. A father can love his daughter like nothing on earth although he does not know who she is or what she looks like. You warm my heart and make it full… until I remember you are gone and I fill with emptiness. You are my stolen child, you are his to serve. I beg of you; do not succumb to him. Do _not_ succumb to him.

**THE END**


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